Compost
by theladylillian
Summary: Elliot finally gets a date with Chelsea, the girl of his dreams. It would be perfect, except the missing person posters all over town sort of kill the mood. Elliot vows to keep Chelsea safe on their evening out, but perhaps she isn't the one he should be worried about.


Hanging up my work apron, I glance in the mirror, inspecting myself for any dirt or grime that may have been missed during my first examination. Satisfied, I draw a shaky breath. Today was my first date with Chelsea, the pretty girl my grandfather had been mentoring. I had only gotten the nerve to ask her out a few days ago, and I had been so shocked that she said yes, I got so lightheaded with excitement I accidentally knocked over a crate of tomatoes. 'Clumsy Elliot,' I think, my cheeks heating slightly as I recall the memory.

As I reach up to fix my pink locks, I shake my head softly. I really like her; I don't want to mess this up. With a determined expression, I finish with my hair, push my glasses up the bridge of my nose, and leave the mirror.

In the kitchen, I am greeted by my mother. "My, Elliot, don't you look dashing!" she smiles at me. "Are you going someplace special?"

"I—I… um," I begin to stammer. "Well—"

"He's going out with that girl Chelsea," Natalie interjects from her seat at the table with half a fruit sandwich in her hands. I glare at her.

My mother's eyes light up. "Oh, that's wonderful! She's a delightful girl. And very beautiful." Her eyebrows jump up as she adds that last part. I feel my cheeks begin to go pink at her comment and suddenly my mother has her fingers in my hair, attempting to neaten it and undoing all the work I did in front of the mirror. "Elliot, why didn't you tell me you were going to see her?"

"MOOoomm!" I squirm away from her. "I had that just right!"

She frowns a little. "I just wanted to make sure you look nice." Her expression softens as she adds "You never know when someone could be the one."

Natalie chuckles. "Don't get ahead of yourself, Mom. This is Elliot we're talking about."

"OH-kay, I'm leaving." I head towards the front door. "I'll see you later, Mom," I call over my shoulder, purposefully not mentioning Natalie.

"Oh, Elliot, I hope it goes well! Tell me all about it when you get back," Mom says cheerily.

"Um, well," I start, "I can't make any promises." Mom laughs. "See ya." I start outside.

I'm only a couple paces outside when I hear my mom call my name again. I turn around and see her grave expression. "Please… be careful, dear."

I would usually get irritated when my mom expressed concern for me in this way, but these days it didn't bother me. She had reason to be worried. Everyone in town did. When people suddenly start to go missing without a trace, especially on these islands where everything was small and peaceful, my mother deserves the right to show concern for me. To be honest, it scared me too.

But I don't show it. Instead I swallow and give my mother a small grin. "Don't worry, Mom. I'll be fine. I'll make sure Chelsea and I both get home safely." She nods her head in response and wordlessly closes the door.

' _Breathe, Elliot breathe!'_ I silently instruct myself. Here I am, standing on Chelsea's porch, her front door looming over me. I swallow and tighten my grip on the pinkcats I had gathered for her on my way over. They seemed like a good idea at the time… are they too cheesy? I am so _helpless_ when it comes to girls!

I take a shaky breath and exhale, the delicate pink blossoms quivering from my breath. And I knock on her door.

No one answered. I knocked again, a little harder. Still, no answer.

Has she stood me up? Did I come at the wrong time? Oh, Goddess, what if she had forgotten? That would be even worse than if she stood me up. I turn to leave, my head hanging. I sulk towards the bridge, my thoughts consumed with what taunts Natalie will throw at me when she sees me come back early and Chelsea-less.

"Elliot!"

Startled, I spin around, almost dropping the flowers. I squint against the setting sun and spot Chelsea by her corn field, waving her hand vigorously over her head. Unsure of what to do, I timidly wave back.

I see her giggle. "Come here!" she shouts.

Grinning, I jog to her. She hadn't forgotten!

"Hi!" she beams at me as I approach. "I'm so sorry, Elliot. Work ran a little long today." She turns around and continues to care for her corn, weeding and watering. "I'm almost finished. I just need to finish up here. We can chat while I work." She gives me a sheepish grin. "If… if you would like that."

My heart begins to pound, and I return her smile. "I would."

A conversation about my work starts up. Chelsea asks me about my duties and I tell her, but I do leave out the parts about me spilling crops and knocking over crates. She doesn't need to know about that just yet.

"So, you lift a lot of things, huh? Lots of crops? Is it heavy?" Chelsea asks.

I shrug "Sure. The heaviest I've lifted is about 120 pounds or so," I say.

Chelsea looks up from her work and faces me. "So… you must be… quite strong, huh?" She stares at me, my arms, my whole body. Then as if she could sense my growing discomfort, she quickly turns her attention back to her work, and gives a nervous chuckle. "Wow, you spend a lot of time around crops I bet. You must be so sick of 'em. I guess being on a farm isn't helping that."

It was a weak attempt to change the subject, but an attempt nonetheless. I take the bait. "Actually, your farm is nice. Very relaxing." I reach up to stroke a corn stalk's leaves. It's nearly ready for harvest. "Your crops are so beautiful. How do you do it?"

Chelsea laughs. "You like corn?"

"Oh Goddess, Iove it! It's one of my favorite things."

"Corn _is_ to die for," Chelsea agrees. "Sweet and yummy." She stands up and stretches, and dusts off her hands. "I'm all finished! Ready to go?"

I present her the pinkcat flowers I had been patiently holding onto. "Yes."

Chelsea and I walk into town, side by side. The sunset was beautiful, unlike any I had ever seen. The melon sky was perfectly blended with shades of purple and orange. The clouds were light and feathery, like spun sugar, only sweeter. I glanced over at my date; in the golden light, she was practically glowing. With her chestnut locks were dancing in the summer breeze, she looked angelic. The only problem was her expression. She was staring off to the left with a fearful look on her face.

I followed her gaze. She was looking at the missing person flyers.

Lanna and Pierre had been missing for almost two weeks. They had disappeared without a trace. It was suspicious; people didn't just leave the islands. Wherever Pierre had gone, he had neglected to take any of his cookbooks. And Lanna left all her fishing gear out. People had begun to say that they didn't go anywhere, something had happened to them. It sounds a little farfetched—nothing _ever_ happens on these islands— but I also believe something may have happened to them. People as passionate and talented as Pierre and Lanna don't just abandon everything. Wherever they are, I'm guessing it is very bad.

I glance back at Chelsea and her worried expression. She had been close to both of them. Seeing those posters must be hard for her. I reach out and touch her shoulder. "Hey," I smile softly. "Don't worry. We'll find them." She looks up at me, wide-eyed. "And don't be scared about tonight," I drop my hand and continue. "I promise to walk you home. Nothing will happen to you tonight. I promise. I won't let it."

Finally, she relaxes. She reaches down and takes my hand. "Oh, Elliot. I'm not afraid. I'm not afraid as long as you're with me."

I'm suddenly very aware of my cheeks heating up. Chelsea must be able to feel my heartbeat through my hand, but I don't pull away. Instead I give her hand a gentle squeeze. And this is how we continue to the restaurant, hand in hand, and butterflies in our tummies.

Dinner was amazing. Even when I spilled my drink into Chelsea's lap, she hadn't gotten angry. She had laughed and said I was cute. Cute. I smile. She called me cute.

It was now a bit passed nine. I was walking Chelsea back to her farm house. The night sky above us glitters like opals, and the breeze has a particular feel to it that reminded you of your favorite memories. Chelsea and I giggle as she tells me her best pirate joke. This moment under the stars, I never want it to end.

We finally arrive at Chelsea's front door. Moths flit overhead around the porchlight. As we stand outside her tiny home, Chelsea hugs me. "Elliot. I had a great time. Thank you so much for everything."

"I-I… um…." I hug her back. "I had an amazing time, too."

We let go and Chelsea starts to go into her house. Suddenly she turn back around and bites her lip. "Hey… I know it's a bit late, but a baby cow was born a few days ago." She gives me a sheepish grin. "She's really cute. Would you like to see her?"

I couldn't believe it. She wasn't ready to say goodnight. It was a stall tactic. Maybe… maybe she really did like me back.

"I would love to."

Chelsea claps her hands. "Yay!" She grabs my hand and begins leading me to her barn. "Her name's Scarlet. You're gonna love her."

As we enter Chelsea's barn, the sweet scent of hay hits my nose. The barn is dark, and where are the cows? I wonder this question aloud to Chelsea.

She turns around to close the door. "They're a bit shy," she says. "Maybe they're hiding?"

I had never heard of cows hiding. Strange. Chelsea starts to call out for her cows, so I follow suit. "Here, cows. C'mon cows." I look behind a feeding bin. What I find makes my stomach drop. What I found isn't a cow… it's Pierre's hat. It was splattered in something dark and red.

I feel the adrenaline begin to course through my body. Something was very wrong.

Suddenly, with a stomach-turning crack, my knees exploded with pain and I fell to the ground. The pain might've been the worst I had ever experienced if it weren't for my shock. Now that I was on the ground, I was face to face with Lanna's bloody corpse. Or at least what was left of it. Her head and torso had been haphazardly shoved under the feeding bin, her neck bent at a sickening angle. Her limbs were nowhere to be seen.

"She was getting a little lonely."

I wince and turn my body around to see Chelsea standing over me with her sledge hammer. She must've used it to break my knee caps. I babble something incoherent, unable to form words. What is happening?!

Chelsea laughs, a light and melodic sound that makes the hair on the back of my neck stick straight up. She perches the hammer on her shoulder and studies me. "Hmm, so far," she lilts, "you are the only one who hasn't screamed." Her face darkens, and her sapphire eyes become cold hard steel. "Why aren't you screaming?"

She had fooled me. She had fooled everyone. And suddenly it hits me. I am going to die. Murdered by the woman I thought I might love one day. Through the confusion and the nausea, I muster up the courage to speak. "You're will not get away with this. You will be stopped." She drops her hammer, and my anger boils. "They are going to CATCH YOU AND MAKE YOU PAY! YOU'RE DISGUSTING! YOU'RE INSANE!"

Chelsea gives a light chuckle and retrieves the axe that had been resting against the wall. It was tinted red. I bit my cheek to keep from screaming. I was not going to give that witch the satisfaction.

"Oh Elliot," Chelsea purrs as she nears me. "You're going to help me grow some _delicious_ corn." She raises the axe high, her insane eyes boring into me. My breath hitches.

With a solid _thwack_ , the cold blade is buried into my skull.


End file.
